


Psychology Report

by jeromevaleska



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jerome Being Jerome, POV Second Person, Public Sex, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Teasing, Truth or Dare, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6923272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeromevaleska/pseuds/jeromevaleska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You do a psychology report on Jerome for school. That's it. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Psychology Report

The decrepit bus trudged along the gravelly road causing your pen to judder across the page as you wrote notes in your notebook, humming along to some music playing through your earphones. You were a criminal psychology student and you loved the course. You had always found psychology interesting and decided to pursue criminal psychology as the idea of evaluating criminals and what went in their heads fascinated you. Working on different topics on every type of criminal you could imagine was exhilarating. You were never bored and the course just constantly kept you on your toes. Your professor mentioned a week before from today that they would be taking a trip to a mental hospital to evaluate one of the patients, something that you were almost overjoyed about because then you would be able to learn a great deal. You never had any hands on experience with an actual criminal, you never interviewed any but now you were and you couldn't wait. Your professor said that everyone would then present their evaluations to the class next week.

You sat on the bus racking your brain trying to think of good questions to ask this person, you vaguely recalled that his name was Arnold Dobkins. Though, you found it difficult to get past one question, because now that it was coming down to it you weren't sure what would be the right ones to ask. You hoped that you could somehow make a conversation with the person and that would give you enough information for your presentation.

You finished up with your notes, and you got off at the next stop, beginning to walk the short distance to the mental institution you would be studying an inmate at: Arkham Asylum. You were a little tense, to say the least, now that you were finally here, because this place had a reputation for its criminally insane patients.

When you walked through the door of the institution, the first thing you noticed was the loud chattering and roaring of the inmates there. Several of them were clutching onto the bars of their cells, shaking them rapidly as they screeched nonsense, their fingers reaching out through the spaces, trying to grab at you but you kept your distance as far as you could.

Your eyes wandered to the two-way glass, catching sight of a certain red head that you heard all about on the news, who was known for matricide. He was staring at the wall opposite of him but then turned his head to look at you. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes when he spotted you, and you immediately recognized that devious grin in his mugshot that you saw on the news.

For some odd reason he waved at you, his grin only widening when you waved back awkwardly. You didn't even know why you acknowledged him, you should have ignored it.

A friendly female doctor came up to you and your classmates, briefly introducing herself as Doctor Thompkins. She reassured everyone that these inmates were safe to talk to and that they shouldn't be worried. Though, that didn't seem to help anyone. You were shaking a little in your boots as the loud screeches pierced your ears, wondering how the doctors here could ever get used to a place like this. She talked a little about all of the patients, mentioning what angered them and what they liked to talk about and what not to do.

"They are all under surveillance constantly, handcuffed, strapped down, the works. Don't worry, we will be watching and monitoring the situation, so they can't hurt you," she reassured with a tender smile that only made you feel better for about a split second. "So should we begin?"

You had to wait your turn because there was only many students they could watch at a time. Though, most of the time a student came out, they were ashen-faced. They had only been in there for a short while, with every petrified looking student that came out of the room, you became more and more tense, your skin prickling as anxiety crept its way in nearly every fiber of your being. You were next in line, and you could feel and hear your heart pounding in your chest, but since you were here already you didn't want to turn back and leave because that would only make you look like a coward.

You were sitting in one of the waiting chairs when Leslie called out your name to get your attention, and you whipped your head back the second you heard her voice, immediately standing up.

"Something came up, the inmate you were going to interview: Arnold Dobkins. He was rushed to the infirmary, he's in critical condition," she reported, a crease in her forehead, her mouth twisted in a worried frown.

"What - what happened to him?" you stuttered, your lower lip quivering as you faced her, and your heart started beating even faster upon those words.

"There was an incident," she explained, and she was about to tell you more but one of the nurses rushed to Leslie, telling her that they needed her assistance back at the infirmary immediately. "If you still want to interview someone, you can see Jerome Valeska," her tone was filled with a sense of dread when she spoke of his name, "he's guilty of matricide, and like I said, the doctors will be keeping a sharp eye on everyone so you won't have to worry, but only go through with this if you're certain. He's been doing a lot better as of late, and he loves talking about almost anything, though he does have mood swings so if you feel uncomfortable, let the guards or doctors know. My biggest warning with him is that you shouldn't mention his mother," she spoke so quickly that it was difficult remembering everything she just said, but you drank up as much as you could remember.

You felt a sudden twinge in your stomach, having second thoughts about stepping into the same room with him, but you didn't have a chance to dwell on it for long when your professor said from behind you, "You're up," he gestured at the door and you glanced at the two-way glass once more, trying to reassure yourself that it was going to be fine, they would be watching you so you wouldn't die. Maybe. The thought crossed your mind that they would blink and then find your mutilated body on the ground but you quickly shook that thought away. You were going to be in there for only a short while, what could go wrong? You were going to get information and then you would be done. Never to see this psychopath again.

Stopping at the door to the small interview room, you took a deep breath and walked in. Jerome's movement was restricted, his hands were handcuffed and his feet were chained to the chair, so this put your mind at ease a small bit. His eyes followed your every movement, a sly smirk slowly forming on his face as he drank in the sight of you, uttering a pleased whistle. You ignored it, and walked around the back of his chair and over to the empty one in front of him.

"You're a beautiful little thing, aren't you?" he practically sighed, his tone fond and you froze on the spot.

"W - What?" you stuttered, but you quickly told yourself to stay calm. You scooted the chair a little closer, coming face to face with the notorious killer. All ruffled auburn hair and blue-green eyes, his striped uniform hugging his skin so perfectly that you couldn't help but stare a little, but you mentally kicked yourself for letting something so small distract you.

"You heard me, don't play coy," he told you with a smug grin stuck on his face, "you got a name, dollface?" he asked as you shifted uncomfortably in your chair and looked down at the page of questions you had written in front of you. This was already going great.

"Y/N," you replied quickly as his eyes bored into yours, and mentally kicked yourself again because you were supposed to be the one asking questions not him.

"Y/N, huh," he rolled the name off his tongue like just saying it was pleasurable, "that's got a really nice ring to it, I like it," he added. "I'm sure you've heard of me, name's Jerome," he told you, and you caught sight of the devilish gleam in his eyes as he examined your every movement. You nodded in response and looked towards the two way glass beside you, the table was close to the wall where the glass was so the people outside could make sure that he wasn't going to try anything. "You come here often?" he asked, and you nearly rolled your eyes at that. 

"So what I wanted to ask was-"

"I've got a question for you," he started, his smirk widening as he spoke, "are you aware just how pretty you are exactly?" he questioned, his head cocked to the side with a look of genuine curiosity in his face.

"Jerome, if we could please start the interview," you said, voice wavering on some words, figuring it best to ignore his compliments.

"I'm bored," he interrupted to feign a yawn, and then a moment later it looked like he was in thought before he continued, "ooh, I know!" he chuckled darkly, "Why don't we play a game?" he suggested.

"A game?" you shook your head before you said, "No, no games, that's not what I'm here for."

"You want answers right? On why I kill people?" he asked, that smirk still in place as he leaned his body over the table, his gaze locked on yours intently and you merely nodded your head. "Then why don't we make things interesting huh? If you play a little game of truth or dare with me, I'll give you some answers in exchange, it'll be like a trade," he grinned widely, and you should have known he wasn't going to make this easy for you, it was so like him to want to stir up trouble first.

"Okay, fine," you complied, nibbling on your lower lip as you faced him, his ogling didn't waver, and you started to feel heat spread across your cheeks.

"I'll ask first, truth or dare," he challenged.

"Truth," you replied, yet you added a daring tone to it. You knew that it wouldn't be very smart to pick the other choice because you didn't really want to know what his twisted mind would come up with.

"Aw, bummer, I was hoping you'd pick dare," he mock-pouted at that before he chuckled, "oh well, so what really brings you here dollface? Got the hots for criminals or something sick like that?" he wiggled his eyebrows, his grin broadening when he noticed the grimace on your face when he said that.

"It's a project for my school, that's all," you told him, matter-of-factly.

"Aw you sure it wasn't to come and see me?" he asked somewhat softly, but it was probably all just a part of his game, "You seem like the kind of girl who likes a little danger in her life," his tongue darted out of his mouth, rolling it around the shape of his bottom lip as he continued to stare you down with those piercing eyes of his, that just wouldn't ever let you go, even for a moment, "I would be more than happy to give that to you," he added with a laugh.

"Just for school," you said simply. "Now, you, truth or dare."

"Dare," he answered almost immediately, like he was just waiting for the opportune moment.

"Um," you paused, and suddenly it came back to you that you couldn't really dare him to do anything due to the restraints, so it was pretty obvious why he chose that. You sat there for a long moment thinking, and he cracked a laugh when you realized the predicament you were in.

"Your turn's up, dollface," he said, his tone low and dangerous, and he winked at you.

"That's not fair, I didn't ask anything," you replied, feeling embarrassed more than ever now that this whole game was just working out in his favor.

"Nuh-uh, took too long," he cackled when he continued, "my turn."

You remained still on your chair, swallowing a nervous gulp as you waited for whatever his next move would be.

"Let's play some more. Truth or dare?" he asked again, his eyebrows raised.

"Truth," you repeated.

"You're no fun," he whined, simulating a frown on his face. "So are you clean?" he asked all of a sudden, and it certainly took you aback, which he took great pleasure in when he saw the look of surprise on your face.

"Clean? Wait what?" you questioned, your eyes narrowed as you tried to process what exactly he meant.

"Are you clean, done there?" he laughed as your face scrunched up in annoyance once you understood his drift. "It's very important to know the sexual history of someone you're going to have sex with," he added, nodding his head as he spoke.

"Yeah, I am," you said it in a whisper, your cheeks brightening up, and it should have been no surprise to you that he was going to ask invasive questions like those. You didn't even understand yourself why you answered that, or any of his questions, you really didn't have to but for some reason you chose to, and it only amused him.

"Good, so am I!" he exclaimed with a satisfied smile on his face. "I just thought it would be best if we got that out of the way, before the main event," he told you smugly.

"What are you getting at exactly?" you asked with a raise of your eyebrows, and you couldn't help but feel intrigued by this little game he had going for you two.

"Choose dare, and maybe you'll understand what I'm getting at," he chuckled, finding this whole situation to be quite the joke, "I promise I'll make it worth your while, and I don't make promises about just anything," he admitted. "Pretty please?" he tilted his head to the side, chuckling all the while.

"Why dare? We're here to talk, not do anything else," you said as you shifted a little in your chair, the way he was staring you down was making you uneasy in more ways than one but there was just something very suggestive about how he was looking at you, like he wanted to eat you right up. Actually, he was doing much more than undressing you with his eyes, those pupils of his seemed to be darkening more by the second, if that was even possible and confusingly enough it made a familiar heat pool and fill your stomach, your thighs clenching almost instantly in response to the things you guessed were running through his mind.

"Come on doll," he dared, his lips curving into a longer smirk, "take a chance with me. I can't hurt you, I'm restrained over here," he shook his handcuffed hands, making them clink.

"Fine then," you said with a purse of your lips, deciding it was better to play by his rules rather than to object, "dare."

He laughed at how he was able to change your mind just like that. "Sit on my lap, I reserved a seat, just for you," he purred.

"What, why would I do that exactly?" you spat out but he just beckoned his head towards your direction, his smirk only widening as he watched your cheeks alight with a pale pink.

"You ask too many questions, just take a seat, it's nice and warm here, just for you," he cooed.

"But what about the others watching us?" you asked quietly, knowing how wrong this all was but you were still tempted to see what more he had to offer you. This whole interview was supposed to be for a school project, and you gave yourself a moment to think about what you would be presenting tomorrow, and you were quick to settle on making up something because there was no way you would be getting the information you needed.

"Oh don't you worry, those lazy shitheads left already," he chuckled at how naive you could be to think that they were actually still there. "We're not gonna get caught," he assured your doubts, "but we have to hurry up, because soon enough they will barge in here and take you away from me," he hissed when he thought about it.

"Why would they do that, why would they leave?" you whispered to yourself, thinking you could actually be somewhat safe here, boy were you wrong.

"News flash, the people here don't give a shit, I guess no one told you," he mocked.

You stood up from your chair, slowly stepping towards him, cursing under your breath and wondering what the hell compelled you to follow his demands, it was like you were under some kind of spell. The shy look on your face only encouraged him. He laughed airily before he leaned in closer to murmur in your ear, "Look under the table, dollface," he instructed.

When you took too long for his liking to look down but you were close enough near the space of his chair, he reached across to pull you down to him, finding yourself all of a sudden straddling his lap in his chair. You felt dazed at the brief surge of vertigo that hit you at the swift change of position. You were shocked, nearly frozen in place, because he had been restrained, and now he was free, just like that? How did he-

He had managed to free his hands from the handcuffs and they were now on your body, touching your skin in slow strokes, taking in the sight of your body on his lap. How did you not realize it before? He simply had you distracted the whole time. You tensed up, your skin prickling with a strange mix of arousal and anticipation of what he could do next now that he was completely loose, heart rate picking up at a more than unsteady pace.

"How - how did you do that?" you stuttered, but didn't jolt up from your seat.

"I've always got a few tricks up my sleeve," he said, voice hushed even though you two were the only ones in the room, "try and keep up," he jested, and you bit your lip at that. Things had taken quite the turn today, and you were eager to see where you both would go from here. You figured this was what living on the edge meant.

While you were still trying to mull this over in your sluggish mind, Jerome had crushed his mouth firmly to yours – effectively blocking all cognitive thought in all its entirety as you lost yourself to the unfamiliar feel of his mouth; intoxicating, skilled, kissing with purpose and with burning desire. The kiss quickly grew heated, now it was all tongue, all tongue and teeth as you groaned into his lips, shifting your weight over his lap as to firmly lock your legs around his waist, fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt when each wet smack of mouth against mouth resulted in his hands gripping and pulling at the shirt you wore. He was smirking widely, chuckling into your mouth and pressing insistently closer to your lips, sucking the sensitive, swollen flesh and visibly relishing in the sharp moan he spurred from your throat when he darted his tongue over the skin he nipped at with the edge of his teeth. 

You could feel fabric pooling around your shoulders and you pulled back just long enough to throw your shirt down, baring your chest to him and feeling the cool air hit your warm skin, resulting in an involuntary shiver as he reattached his mouth to your lips, busying his hands with the clasp of your bra. For a brief moment you thought maybe you belonged in Arkham with him, if you were willing to have sex with one of the inmates, right here and now, there was obviously something to be said about that.

"Don't let me do all the work," he hissed, tone gruff and impatient as he breathed against your mouth. You managed a chuckle despite yourself, grinding your hips slowly down over his lap, bucking and moaning lightly at the feel of his clothed erection bumping against your wet panties under your skirt – and without thinking you flung a hand downwards to pull his pants down.

It took a while to manage, with your mouth constantly being sucked, kissed, and licked by his eager lips, and with his hands having begun to tease your nipples, squeezing your breasts and sliding down your back after having expertly divulged you of your bra. But you managed it. You threw your head back, his name purring throatily from your mouth as you started to grind slowly, ever so slowly, over the tantalizing length of his member straining to attention under his briefs. He hummed in pleasure, releasing your mouth momentarily to trail wet, leisure kisses down the arch of your neck once more – something to which your eyes rolled back again as you gripped his shoulders tightly, feeling the muscle contract and roll under your touch.

"Like that... Harder..." he groaned lowly, panting softly by the sensitive skin of your neck as he tightened his hold in your hair, his free hand resting at your hip and digging in like claws as he bucked into you, the two of you lost in the ceaseless grinding, rolling motions and the consequent waves of pleasure that erupted through your abdomen in response.

"Jerome," you whispered feebly, rolling your hips more insistently over his and feeling the strain of his cock nudge against your needy sex, your clit by now swollen, throbbing, yearning for more contact, yearning for the feel of skin against skin, because it was becoming torture feeling how thick, how hard he was right now, and you knew that if he had you completely at his mercy, pounding into you right now it would be the absolute end of you because of your need for it.

He sucked sharply against the junction of your neck, and the resulting bite of teeth placed there soon after had you squirming, whimpering on his lap as you tightened your hands in his hair. "And people say I'm crazy, look at you, you're going to let an inmate in Arkham Asylum do whatever he wants with you," he scoffed.

Another low chuckle purred heartily from his throat, a sound which you found you were becoming increasingly more lost to by the second, and he soothed the swelling bite with the tip of his tongue – all hot and moist, and you thought about how you wanted that tongue between your legs, dipping into your dripping folds, feeling the vibration of his moans rocketing through your clit. Your toes curled and you ground down with a considerably forceful buck of your hips which made him pant shakily in response as he hooked his fingers tighter around your waist and he smiled against your throat.

"This is exactly how I imagined you..." he whispered hoarsely, that low baritone soothing and utterly stimulating as he trailed his lips further down your neck, coming to the swell of your breasts and he paused for a moment, simply pressing small kisses over the firm flesh, flicking his tongue over a nipple and sucking it into his mouth soon after. 

You writhed again, biting your bottom lip with enough force to make it bleed as you looked down to see that devilish smile stuck on his lips, his eyes glinting with something dark, something carnal.

"Breathless..." he pressed another kiss to your breast, then moved onto the next – leisurely lapping his tongue, swirling and circling around the previously abandoned nipple. "Writhing shamelessly," he said as he bucked his hips, causing you to cry out and cling to him, lost in the pleasure as you ground down to meet the feel of his cock. And without warning he plunged his hand down into your underwear, the resulting hard rub of his bare fingers against your swollen clit making you all but jerk upwards, a shocked yelp echoing from your throat.

"And so fucking wet..." he purred.

His voice had taken on a low, predatory growl, something primal that sparked within you a need to shiver, to submit, to do whatever the hell he wanted you to do because the desire in his voice alone was enough to make you want to come. 

He pulled his hand out, and your cheeks flushed when you saw the thin trail of your juices sticking to his fingers, glistening wetly from where he rubbed his hand between your legs – and just the sight of that was enough to make you moan wantonly, feeling your muscles contract and roll in excitement as you rocked your hips forward to drive back over the bulge of his cock.

He gave a pleased groan in response, breath panting harshly from his lips now as he crushed his mouth back to yours, diving his fingers back down between your legs to begin mercilessly rubbing at your sensitive clit, swirling and pinching and each hit touch made you thrust into his hand, trying to fuck something because he still hadn't pulled his cock out yet and you so dearly wanted to feel him inside you, wanted to ride him until he came, fill you up. But you were not surprised to find out how much of a tease he was. 

"This'll be easier than I thought," he murmured against your lips, smirking as he effortlessly plunged two fingers inside your quivering sex, earning a sharp buck from your hips as your eyes widened. You ground onto his hand, blissfully unaware of the erotic sight you were displaying, only knowing that right now you finally had something in there after all that waiting, and if he could just pump his hand a little bit more...

“Jerome... Please... fuck,” you hissed between your teeth, and he chuckled in amusement before tearing your soaked panties down past your thighs, getting you to shift yourself upwards so you could shuffle out of them as best as you could before lowering yourself back down over his lap, cheeks flushed, mouth panting and open, eyes lust-glazed and half-lidded. The low groan that rumbled through his chest at that indicated that was what he had been longing to see – your face gazing down at him with such submission, such want. 

"You need it huh?" he asked breathlessly, and you nodded your head feverishly. "Tsk tsk, such a filthy girl, didn't the doctors outside tell you not to fuck the inmates here? Or did they leave that part out?" he teased. He had to remind you just how wrong this was, but for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to care much.

He reached out, caressing your chin with his palm and before you could reply he pressed another kiss to your mouth – not as heady nor as forceful as before, but one which left you utterly yearning nevertheless as you fell into the quick pace his mouth set. You flicked your tongue lightly over the tip of his own and a moment later you felt something hot, slick, and heavy slip between your thighs which made you immediately curl up on him, moaning softly as you felt the head of his freed cock dip towards your stomach. 

He smirked, humming against your lips as he eagerly swallowed the sounds you made, and he managed to pull back just long enough to press his forehead against yours, grin wide as he watched your eyes dart down to the sight of him - head slicked with pre-come and your own fluids, his thick shaft swollen and filled with blood along with a nice dusting of fine hairs gathering at the base.

You licked your lips, sitting mesmerized at the sight momentarily until his words snapped you back to attention – words that you were only far too eager to obey as he whispered them sinfully into your ear.

“Ride me," he ordered. "Fuck yourself on my cock."

You grabbed his shoulders, sat yourself up and aligned yourself as he fisted the base of his cock – grunting a little as he ran his hand over his swollen shaft – and he helped you ease yourself down on him, shivers wracking your form as you felt his thick cock breach your walls and push slowly inside. 

"Just like that," he cooed around a shaky breath.

You dropped down, breath hitching as you gripped the back of his neck, beginning to work on slowly thrusting up, then slamming back down, all the while your head was about ready to loll back at the wonderful fullness you felt inside you, his thick member plunging in then out in steady, guided movements as you ground into him. 

You could feel the way he stiffened under you, his hands flying to your hips and clawing into your skin, leaving sharp crescent shaped welts from his nails as he groaned throatily and snapped his hips up, pulling forth all manner of soft moans from you as your skin slapped together on the chair. 

"That's it sweetheart," he panted against your neck before drawing you in for another crushing kiss, smirking as he allowed you to amuse yourself by plunging your tongue into the warmth of his mouth, all the while groaning as you rose up, fell down, rolled your hips and moved faster. 

His hands were everywhere on your back, tracing the curve of your spine as you bucked and ground, and somewhere along the line your head had fallen against his neck, barely managing to whisper his name as another sharp snap of his hips upwards had you scrabble at his shoulders, gripping painfully as a breathless cry for more sang from your lips. 

"You like that, don't you?" he breathed, voice hot and heavy in your ear as he sucked along your jaw. You nodded, arching backwards and threading your hands through his hair, feeling the pleasure slowly build, slowly take hold as you feverishly worked to meet his hips now, setting the pace you wanted, the feel of his cock so thick and full inside you, making you want to hold onto this feeling forever, his body wrapped around yours, smell his scent, his teeth against your neck and head that low purr of a voice whispering those dirty, filthy things in your ear. 

"Fuck me..." you whimpered, unable to stand it anymore as you bounced on his lap, the creaking of the chair only seeming to add to the intensity of the moment as he thrust up occasionally to meet your eager, welcoming body. "Fuck me Jerome, just... Fuck me.”

"You've got such a fucking dirty mouth on you," he crooned. 

He hummed thoughtfully as he grabbed you by the hips, pulling you off his lap and before you could even cry out in disappointment at the suddenly empty feeling inside you, in a moment you found yourself pushed back against the table – the wind momentarily getting knocked out of your lungs. But then you felt his hands at your thighs, gripping tightly and pushing them apart, and it was with a sharp hiss of breath exhaled from your lips that you moaned your appreciation. 

Jerome slid back inside your pleasantly abused hole and picked up where he left off, his grunts and groans sounding all the more intense as his hands clawed over your breasts, down to your hips, ghosting behind your buttocks and finally landed at your thighs again as he sank into you again on the table.

All that could be heard was the hot slap of bodies sliding together, frantic whimpers and garbled names lost on breathless cries, the joined groans of pleasure from the two of you as he fucked you hard. A smile parted his kiss-swollen lips as you writhed and arched under him, your hands weakly scrabbling at his shoulders and somehow managing to stay there despite how you trembled. 

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath. He was so close and so were you. Your walls clenched and fluttered all around the length of him so much that he couldn't take it anymore. 

You both met your climaxes after a few more rapid, merciless thrusts of his hips. He pushed you down hard enough to make you wince, pinning you forcefully to the table as his cock twitched, his back arched, and he let out a groan as pleasure stroke him in a way it never had before. He filled you up, pumping his seed into you as you squirmed and howled beneath him, your velvety walls clamping down on him in a biological need to milk every last drop of him. You both kissed on the way down from your orgasms, a slower, more patient making out where hands where just gently running through hair and along cheeks. 

He took a sharp breath before he pulled himself off of you completely, and you squeezed your legs shut in an effort to keep his essence locked inside. He was quick to pull his clothes back up, chuckling loudly as he watched your initial reaction. 

"You're a wild little thing, aren't you?" he chuckled as he teased, "Almost wanted to keep going so we could get caught," he told you with that smug grin on his face and you decided to ignore that comment. "Get dressed dollface, you have less than a minute left till those shitheads barge in here," he reminded, and he laughed louder when he saw how fast you were to jolt up and clip your bra back on and slip your shirt over your head. 

"Shit, shit, shit," you cursed and slipped off the table, snatching your paper and avoiding eye contact with the ginger. He sat himself back at the table and you joined the opposite chair in front of him, though you wobbled a bit in your haste. 

"You know," he started when he saw the look of worry on your face, automatically understanding what it meant, "because you proved to be so much fun, I've got a little something for your project," he said and you leaned in close to listen. 

The moment he opened his mouth to continue, a doctor stepped in and stood next to your side, her hand on your shoulder. 

"Time's up," she said solemnly.

"Ding ding," he chirped, grinning back at you as you stood up from your chair, "well I guess there's always next time," he shrugged, and you knew that he was messing with you just so you would come back and see him again. You grabbed your paper quickly, shooting him a glare when the doctor didn't notice, and he just waved goodbye to you in response.

"Don't forget about me, doll! I should still be here when you get back," he winked.

The doctor guided you out of the room before she shut the door and locked it. You whined lowly in your throat when you stepped away from the main area of the room and looked down at the blank spaces on the paper which had no answers to the questions you jotted down. It would be okay, because maybe you could come back and see him again so he could give you some real answers. Yeah, that was what you had to tell yourself in order to make sense of why you would come back here.


End file.
